“I don’t blame him,” I murmured, sinking down to my knees at the front of the cage. He approached, head down, but curious. I didn’t look at him too closely, letting him come to me, allowing the dog to get used to my scent.
“You good, Chloe?” Lucas asked, and I smiled, especially when I felt the dog sniffing at my hair. I resisted the urge to pet him, knowing that right now I just needed him calm enough for me to get a sense of what he was like. After a moment, I looked at the dog now sitting next to me. Head, wide and regal. Chest, barreled and strong. Beautifully brindled with brown and white, his tail thumping against the floor. His golden eyes weren’t so sad now; they were inquisitive.
“You wanna come hang with me, mister?” I asked, reaching out with my hand, fingers curled in like a paw, for him to sniff. He sniffed, then he licked through the muzzle, and my eyes filled with tears. I looked up at Lucas, who was nodding.
Standing slowly, I took hold of his leash. Curious, with tail wagging, he walked with me out of the cage. Stalling a bit when he saw Lucas, he steered clear but remained at my heel, still limping but tail up. And wagging.
As I signed the paperwork, the woman behind the desk pointed to it and said, “The guys on the night crew gave him that name, but he hasn’t had it very long. You could change it if you wanted.”
Lucas leaned over my shoulder to read the paper, and we both saw it at the same time.
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
Lucas clapped me on the back with a laugh. “That’s fantastic, chickie baby.”
I looked down at the dog. “Come on, Sammy Davis Jr. I’ve got some records by your boys at home.” Chuckling, I headed out to the truck with the dog in tow.
Lucas wanted to do a thorough exam before bringing him to the ranch, so we stopped by the clinic on the way home. He’d called ahead, and when we pulled in, Miguel, one of the wonderful vet techs I’d gotten to know, was waiting outside for us.
“Hey guys, heard you’ve got a new boy for us to take a look at!” he called out. I gestured toward the back of the truck.
“He’s in the back; I’ll get him.”
I hopped out and ran around to the back, ignoring the amused looks Lucas and Miguel shot at each other. I wanted to do this; this was my job now. Lucas had put the cab on the truck so the dog wouldn’t be whipped by the wind on the highway, instead resting comfortably inside his large pet carrier. I climbed up into the back of the truck, talking to him the entire time.
“Hey boy, how ya doin’? Have a good ride back here?” I asked, slowly and quietly unlocking the gate, not wanting to startle him. He’d gotten a bit skittish when we had to lift him into the truck, and I was hoping he’d jump down on his own. Not wanting to further injure the leg he was limping on, I’d asked Miguel to bring out the PetStep, a kind of portable step stool for dogs for instances exactly like this.
Once it was in position, I reached in and got hold of his leash, gently tugging him forward. Once he understood what I wanted him to do he came willingly, albeit a little slowly. Once more, he stalled when he saw the two men, but after sniffing the air for a moment, he came down the steps one at a time. And when he’d reached the asphalt, that tail was wagging again.
“Well, look at you!” I was amazed at the resilience of this dog. “Come on, Sammy Davis Jr. Let’s get you checked out so I can get you home. I’ve got a bucket of tennis balls with your name on it.”
Marge took one look at the dog when we came in and put her hand on her heart. “Well bless my soul, look at this pretty boy!” she squealed, leaning over the counter to see him as we went back to the exam rooms. While she cooed, I took a moment to compliment her on the very festive hot pink vest paired with a pair of lemon-colored slacks. I say slacks because they just couldn’t rightly be referred to as pants. They were from a decidedly slacks-type era.
“Lucas, honey, I’ll tell your dad you two are here,” she said, then reached into her pocket. “And here, Chloe, see if he wants one of these.”
“Thanks, Marge,” I said, pocketing the treat and following Lucas down the hall. Inside the exam room, Sammy picked a corner and huddled into it, keeping his bad side toward the wall. Protecting it? Poor guy. He whined just once, then laid down with his head on his paws, watching us carefully.
“Hey there, big guy, no one’s gonna hurt you. We just want to get you feeling better, okay?” I said softly, crouching down on the floor next to him. Once more, reaching out with my fingers curled inward, I let him sniff me and was rewarded with a head bump. I smoothed my hand across the top of his head, delighted he was letting me pet him already. I kept my strokes long, smooth, and gentle as I moved down across his body.
“Hey buddy, think I could take a look at you?” Lucas asked, bending down next to me.
The dog let out a low growl and backed farther into the corner.
“He doesn’t seem to like men too much.” I sighed.
“I can’t blame him for that. He seems to like you, though,” he said, patting me on the shoulder.